


If I Only Had a Brain

by montecarlogirl87



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlogirl87/pseuds/montecarlogirl87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>1.11 Scarecrow</i> AU -- Emily is a little older. And well, she's stuck in a cellar with Dean. Yeah, I went there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Only Had a Brain

The slams echoed in the small cellar every time he rammed his shoulder into the door. The light danced across her face as it fell through the slats of wood with each impact.  
  
“I don’t understand…they’re gonna kill us?”  
  
“Sacrifice us…which is, I dunno, classier I guess.”  
  
He gave up his assault on the door and caught his breath coming back down the steps.  
  
She paced and rubbed her forehead. She couldn’t believe all of this shit.  
  
“You really didn’t know anything about this…did you?”

“About what? The scarecrow god?” she laughed, “I can’t believe this…” she mumbled.  
  
“Well you better start believing. ‘Cause I'm gonna need your help.”  
  
“Okay.” There was no hesitation. If they were willing to send their own family into that damn orchard to be slaughtered than like hell she wasn’t gonna try to bring their betraying asses down with her last breath.  
  
“I did know…I just never believed. There have always been whispers about the god, the orchard that nobody owns…I just…thought it was all bullshit, I mean come on!”  
  
Dean smirked.   
  
She sighed deep and set her jaw. “So what are we going to do?”  
  
“Well…we can destroy the scarecrow but we gotta find the tree…”  
  
“What tree?”  
  
“Maybe you can help me with that…it would be really old, the locals would treat it with a lot of respect, you know…like it was sacred.”  
  
“There is this one apple tree…supposedly the immigrants brought it over with them…they call it the ‘first tree.’”  
  
“Is it in the orchard?”  
  
“Yeah…but I don’t know where.”  
  
“Great…”  
  
She sighed again and sat down on the dusty floor…he watched her and followed suit.  
  
“So…all these years…those people that go missing…this, thing has been…killing them?” she asked, swallowing against the bile in her throat.  
  
“Yeah,” he replied, wiping the dust off his hands and onto his pants.  
  
“Fucking assholes,” she mumbled.  
  
“What was that?” he laughed.  
  
She looked at him and smiled. “What?! They’re assholes!” she laughed.  
  
He arched his brow, “Yeah, I guess so,” he smiled.  
  
She leaned her head back and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.  
  
“You cold?” he asked, watching her rub her arms.  
  
She shrugged. “Naw, I’m alright.”  
  
“Here,” he shifted and pulled his jacket off.  
  
“No…now you’re gonna be cold.”  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
“No,” she said with a smile.  
  
“Just take the damn jacket,” he grinned despite himself.  
  
“No,” she laughed as he tried to force the jacket on her, finally just throwing it over her face.  
  
She grabbed it and threw it right back at him and stuck out her tongue.  
  
“Oh,  _real_  mature.”  
  
She smiled, “Look who’s talking!”  
  
He scooted over as close to he could get to her and tossed the jacket around the both of them.  
  
“Truce?”  
  
She just smiled, and tried to still the shivers she suddenly had that had nothing to do with the weather and all to do with his closeness. It was ridiculous, he was what…at least 5-6 years older than her, but hell, who was she was kidding, he was still hot.  
  
He shook his head, completely oblivious to the blush that was creeping its way up her neck and into her cheeks.  
  
“So…how do you know about all this shit?”  
  
Great… _the_  question.  
  
“It’s kinda…what I do…well, what my family does.”  
  
“That wasn’t vague or anything.”  
  
He chuckled. And then proceeded to spill his guts.

* * *

 

“Wow.”  
  
He laughed, “Yeah.”  
  
“You’re crazy you know.”  
  
He chuckled, “Probably.”  
  
She had shifted slightly, leaning a little more into him and he had actually extended his arm over her shoulders on the shelf behind her.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered.  
  
He shifted, causing his elbow to slide off the shelf and his arm to rest on her shoulders; he looked at her with an arched eyebrow.   
  
“For what?”  
  
“Everything. Just, I dunno…saving me, making me feel safe.”  
  
She had sat up slightly, his jacket slipped off her shoulders and she played with the sleeve, refusing to look at him.  
  
“You're welcome,” his husky voice sliced through the silence.  
  
She shivered again at the scratchy sound, he of course assumed that she was cold again and pulled her back over to him, wrapping his jacket back around them.  
  
She sighed deep and rested her head against his chest.  
  
He stiffened for a moment and then forced himself to relax, wrapping his arm lightly around her.  
  
They sat in silence a couple minutes before she hesitantly reached up and played with the last button on the over shirt he was wearing.  
  
His eyes watched her small fingers move and looked over at her curiously, but he stayed quiet.  
  
She bit her lip and tried to stop the slight tremble in her hand as she continued to busy herself with the small round object.  
  
His brow scrunched in slight confusion.  
  
“Hey…you okay?”  
  
His deep throated growl had almost caused her to jump and she immediately froze hoping he hadn’t noticed.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she cut out a little too quickly as she sat back up and brushed some hair from her face, once again making his arm fall from her shoulders. She immediately wished it was still there, and immediately kicked herself for even thinking that way.  
  
She stood up leaving his jacket to pool around him and stalked over towards the wall and pushed her hair back out of her face and sighed hard.  _Why the hell am I thinking this way?!_  
  
Dean watched her like a hunter. His eyes traced her form quickly, taking note in every little thing. The way she stood too stiffly, the weight that was invisibly bearing down on her shoulders, the way she shook slightly with each deep intake of breath.  
  
“No you’re not.”  
  
“What?” her voice cracked and she winced inwardly.  
  
“You’re not fine. What is it?”  
  
“Nothing. Just…this whole sacrifice thing.”  
  
Bullshit. He knew it, and still watched her. “What about it?”  
  
“It’s just stressful. What?” she clipped, slightly annoyed that he couldn’t just leave it alone.  
  
He finally tore his gaze from her and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest, “Nothin,’” he sighed.  
  
She half thought he was going to go to sleep on her right there.  
  
“You know I won’t let that thing get you,” he mumbled.  
  
Her eyes shot up from the floor. Had he just said what she thought he had? What was that supposed to mean? And was that tone he used in her head…or had he…no, couldn’t be.  
  
She blinked as he sat there quietly. She swallowed hard.  
  
“What if it does?” she whispered.  
  
“It won’t.” No hesitation there.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
“It won’t,” he said firmly, his head raising to stare into her brown eyes.  
  
“You can’t promise me were getting out of this…”  
  
“Wanna make a bet?”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “How? Huh? They’re gonna come here with guns…lead us to the orchard…with guns…and probably string us up…with guns. So what’s you’re grand escape plan?”  
  
He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out,” he said casually and leaned his head back.  
  
“You’re a pain in the ass.”  
  
His lips quirked into a smirk and he opened one eye to glance over at her.  
  
She bit the inside of her cheek but couldn’t help but smile back.  
  
“God, I hate you.”  
  
“No you don’t.”  
  
Her smile faltered…and he noticed.  
  
His eyes darted her form once again and he cleared his throat, tearing his gaze from her again.  
  
“Dean…” she whispered, so low she was surprised he had even heard it.  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“What if we don’t?”  
  
He sat up and gave her a look of slight annoyance. “What? You don’t trust me?”  
  
“No…that’s not it…I just…you can’t promise me a hundred percent that you can get us out of this…and your cockiness can’t deny that fact...and I don’t…” she swallowed hard. “I don’t wanna die…alone,” she whispered, shoving her hands in her pockets.  
  
His hard stare watched her. “You won’t,” he sighed, letting his tough guy veneer slide for just one moment. “If…by some  _incredibly_  small chance,” he emphasized, “we don’t make it…I’ll be there. If you go, I go.”  
  
She stared at him. Why did that seem…comforting? Despite the fact that that wasn’t exactly what she had meant.  
  
She stood silently and after watching her for a moment he once again leaned his head back.  
  
“Dean…”  
  
He sighed. “Hmm?”  
  
“That’s not the kind of alone I meant.” Holy crap! Had she just said that out loud?! She shut her eyes tight and bit her lip unconsciously.  
  
His eyes shot open and stared at the cobwebbed ceiling. Oh god... His gaze slowly slid over to her. She immediately slid to the floor and hung her head in her hands.  
  
“Shit, shit, shit…” she mumbled.  
  
He was half tempted to smile.  
  
He sighed and swallowed hard, before once again sitting up.  
  
“Emily…”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
He looked over at her slightly surprised.  
  
“Just shut up…please…just…I didn’t say that…” she mumbled.  
  
This time the corner of his lips did twitch into a slight grin.  
  
He complied with her wish and stayed quiet. At least for a minute.  
  
“Em...”  
  
“Oh god,” she groaned, her face still buried in her hands.  _Just kill me now…screw the sacrifice._  
  
He grinned slightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
He chuckled.  
  
“Emily…”  
  
“Please…don’t say anything…” she hissed.  
  
“No.”  
  
She looked up at him with lightly red eyes and flushed cheeks.  
  
He tilted his head to the other side and gave her a look of sympathy before getting up and walking over to her.  
  
She watched his worn boots as they crossed the floor and then stared at the dusty ground as he sat down next to her.  
  
 _Can’t look at him, can’t look at him, can’t look at him…_  
  
“Emily…it’s okay to…feel…that way,” he said his mind running in circles trying its damnedest not to make a smart ass comment and make her feel bad. Contrary to popular belief Dean wasn’t a cold person…he just didn’t like admitting that, because then he’d have to kill you.  
  
She stayed quiet and he ran his lip through his teeth before trudging on through this chick flick moment.  
  
“Look, I understand,” he whispered, “and honestly, I don’t know what else to say, but you don’t have to feel, awkward…’cause I know what you mean.”  
  
“No you don’t.”   
  
Oh god, had she just said that out loud? Maybe she should try to find some duct-tape to prevent anymore feet from being shoved in her mouth.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Hey…” he placed his hand on her back.  
  
She jumped up as if he had placed a branding iron on her and shuffled he way to the other side of the small enclosed space. Damnit, why did it have to be so small, offering her no shelter from his eyes, those damn sparkling hazel eyes that were now set under a scrunched somewhat confused brow.  
  
She slammed her back against the wall and once again slid down until she plopped like a pile onto the floor.  
  
“You gonna keep making me walk back and forth?”  
  
She didn’t honor him with an answer.  
  
“Emily…”  
  
She cringed inwardly.  
  
“We’re stuck in this together…and well, I’d rather have you talking to me. Just, please, tell me what the hell’s going on,” he struggled.  
  
“You.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“You…you’re the problem. And well, me…feeling this way…with you…here,” she mumbled into her arms crossed across her knees.  
  
Realization hit him like his Chevy had just ran full force into his face going ninety.   
  
Holy shit.

If she had been looking at him she probably would have burst out laughing, even with the awkwardness.

The look on his face was priceless, his jaw working silently and he could practically feel the gears turning in his own head trying to think of something,  _anything_ , to say.  
  
When he audibly sighed, she peeked over arms and then nervously looked away when she saw him staring at her.  
  
He sat quietly for a moment, one leg stretched out, hands in his lap, just watching her. His brow was furrowed softly in thought as he watched her shaky breathing, watched the way she shifted slightly every few seconds.  
  
Finally he shuffled his feet underneath himself and walked silently over to her, picking up his forgotten jacket and noting the way she cringed when he got into her general space before her sat down next to her without a word.  
  
He brushed some dust off the dark material before gently draping it over her slightly shivering shoulders.  
  
Her whole body tensed as she felt the weight of the heavy material settle. She cautiously looked up and met his eyes for a minute.  
  
He smiled just barely, hoping to inject some comfort into the situation.  
  
She dropped her head again, but at least she didn’t hide her eyes this time, he thought.  
  
He sniffed and chewed the inside of his lip, looking down himself and spinning the silver band on his finger.  
  
She looked over at the movement and chanced a glance at him. She stared a moment longer than she planned, until his eyes swept back up and once again clashed with hers.  
  
God, this was getting ridiculous.  
  
When she looked away again like a frightened animal Dean leaned his head back and with a somewhat shaky hand, although he would never admit that, reached up and placed it tentatively on her back.  
  
He felt her tense, but at least she didn’t shy away.  
  
“Em…” he whispered, low and deep, making her shiver under his touch.  
  
His large hand rubbed slow warm circles on her back before he withdrew, shifting and crossing his legs underneath himself and leaning forward, hoping to meet her eyes.  
  
She glanced over nervously, quickly looking away again but then hesitantly returning to his eyes.  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispered.  
  
She laughed incredulously. “Right, this is so okay.”  
  
Dean sighed, looking away for a minute before looking back at her, scaring himself when he was glad she was still looking back.  
  
His callused palm reached up to cup her cheek and let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding when she didn’t pull away.  
  
He leaned in and kissed her gently, their lips barely making contact.  
  
He couldn’t help the slight smirk that graced his features when he heard her inhale sharply.  
  
She dropped her chin, looking down at the ground again but he didn’t remove his hand. His thumb swept back and forth before he reached up to tuck of strand of wayward hair behind her ear.  
  
He sat next to her, letting her recollect herself, his shoulder lightly touching hers, his knee resting against hers, letting their warmth mingle between them.  
  
“Dean…can we just…forget I ever said anything?” she said quietly.  
  
His brow quirked and he smiled slightly, mulling over her words.  
  
“We could,” he said slowly. “If that’s what you really want.”   
  
Although he would venture a guess that wasn’t the case, just based on the fact that she seemed to be leaning  _into_  his presence.   
  
She was still scared about what they would be subjected to after nightfall and although in a completely different manner, Dean did understand trying to latch onto something that mattered when things got rough.  
  
He let his hand rest on her back and began making small circles again and a small smile spread across his lips when she closed her eyes.  
  
His hand applied a slight amount more pressure and slid up between her shoulder blades before his long fingers wrapped themselves gently around her neck and kneaded slow and soft. He smiled again when he felt her shiver and suppress a moan, trying in vain to curb her reactions.  
  
He shifted again, stretching his legs out and leaned back, letting his hand migrate to her side and he added just the barest amount of pressure, pulling her towards him.  
  
He felt her body stiffen, giving resistance.  
  
“Dean…” she whispered harshly.  
  
He leaned forward again and grazed his lips against her temple, shushing her and nuzzling his nose into her soft hair before whispering that it was okay in her ear and once again settling back.  
  
This time when he added a little pressure she came. A little slowly, still unsure of everything that was rapidly spinning out of her control and experience level, but she came nonetheless, awkwardly settling onto his chest.  
  
Her hand lay over his heart and the dull thump was only making her more aware of the blood pounding in her head and body to the same rhythm.   
  
His hand was still slowly making its way up and down her back and he had his cheek resting against the top of her hair, a small grin plastered on his face as he felt her shaky breath against his own body.  
  
He placed a light kiss on the top of her head and then looked down at her quietly.  
  
She was almost panting, breathing so hard, eyes clenched shut and literally quivering with pent up adrenaline and nervousness.  
  
Dean smiled to himself again before he gently took her chin in his fingers. Her eyes snapped open in surprise but she didn’t pull away, although it took her a moment before she met his gaze.  
  
He leaned down and kissed her softly, leaning his forehead against hers, their eyes still closed.  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispered slowly.  
  
She nodded shakily against him and settled her cheek against his chest again, allowing herself to wrap her fingers in his shirt.  
  
He rested his cheek on the top of her head again and sighed.  
  
They sat like that in silence for at least five minutes.  
  
“If you don’t mind me asking…” he said, pausing, “How old are you?”  
  
Surprisingly the question didn’t startle her. He was older than her, it was perfectly logical he’d be curious.  
  
“Twenty,” she said softly, “I’ll be twenty-one in December.”  
  
His hand continued rubbing her back softly.  
  
“And you’ve never…”  
  
He let the question linger in the air.  
  
She shook her head against him. “I moved here when I was 13…and this town’s not exactly crawling with boys.”  
  
He smirked to himself and nodded.   
  
His hand continued its soothing strokes up and down her back and he felt a little better when he felt her start to relax.  
  
He kissed her temple softly and felt the small tremor that passed through her.  
  
“Just relax babe,” he whispered.  
  
“Easier said than done,” she whispered back with a shaky voice.  
  
He smiled, “I know hun.” He scooted himself down, reclining both of them a little more and placed another small kiss on her brow.  
  
“You know we don’t have to.”  
  
She nodded in silence.  
  
He knew she wanted to. She was nervous as hell. But she trusted him. And he had known from the moment he met her she was attracted to him.  
  
It had been a long time since he had been someone’s first. But being trapped in a cellar and offered as sacrifices together can tend to forge a bond.  
  
He took a chance and rolled slowly, turning her onto her back and held himself over her.  
  
She had her eyes clenched shut and he saw her struggling for breath.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Just more trembling.  
  
“Em…look at me hun.”  
  
She finally did open her eyes, staring into those impossibly deep hazel eyes and she had to mentally tell herself to breathe.  
  
He smiled softly.  
  
“It’s okay,” he whispered, settling himself onto his side next to her.  
  
She was frighteningly aware of his warm hand burning like a brand on the flat of her stomach.  
  
She didn’t know what to do with her hands and awkwardly moved them to her chest, then the floor and then her stomach, almost panicking when they rested on top of his for a split second.  
  
He calmly reached up and grabbed one of her hands in his larger one and threaded their fingers together, leaning over and placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.  
  
Her eyes shot to his and he just smiled at her.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
She snorted.   
  
“Does it look like I’m friggin’ okay?”  
  
He grinned.  
  
“All you have to say is no. I’ll back off.”  
  
“I know,” she said softly.  
  
She wasn’t scared. She did trust him. But inexperience was making her feel as if her stomach was in her throat and her nerves were attached to a live wire. She wanted this, but she was just too damn nervous to even make a squeak about it.  
  
Luckily, he could tell.  
  
He leaned in slow and kissed her softly, letting his tongue graze against her lips. She was breathing hard through her nose and almost panicked outright before she mentally kicked herself in the ass and opened to him.  
  
He kept her hand in his, squeezing reassuringly and brought his other up to cradle her face as he slipped past her lips and kissed her solidly.  
  
He felt her hand flutter against his arm before she planted it firmly on his shoulder and he leaned a little more over her, kissing her hungrily.  
  
She moaned into his mouth and he knew she wasn’t going to back out now.  
  
He finally slipped his fingers free of hers, with one last squeeze, and let his hand trail softly down her side, letting his burning hot fingers just barely slip under the hem of her shirt.  
  
A thread of panic shot through her and she broke away from his wet kiss and her stomach twitched under his tender touch.  
  
He didn’t retreat, just watched her before kissing her cheek softly and nuzzling where her jaw and neck met. He felt her sigh and he whispered against her skin.  
  
“Just tell me when babe.”  
  
“Don’t,” she breathed, “Don’t stop.”  
  
He placed a soft kiss on her neck and she whined low in her throat.  
  
He looked back up at her and smiled when he saw she was looking back. Her shaky hand nervously came up to rest against his stubbled jaw and he turned his head slightly, placing a kiss in her palm.   
  
Her small fingers slipped up to flutter against the bruised flesh where the butt of the rifle had impacted with his head.  
  
“Does it hurt?”  
  
“Eh, it’s not bad,” he shrugged, “It’s just like a bruise.”  
  
Her eyes came back from the angry purple and red skin and locked on his again.  
  
He just stared at her, letting his fingers start to stroke ever so slightly.  
  
She finally swallowed hard and nodded at him.  
  
He leaned in and kissed her again, soft and slow.  
  
“Just relax baby,” he rasped against her lips, letting his hand snake a little farther under her soft shirt, as he brought his body a little more over her.  
  
He worked his soft lips down the side of her neck and moaned his own encouragement when she sighed.  
  
His own body was starting to take the hint and he could feel the slight restriction of his pants start to grow slowly.  
  
He met her eyes again before he let both his hands slip under her shirt and pulled it over her head.  
  
She settled back down on his jacket that had been laid out underneath her and she felt her cheeks burn.  
  
He saw the flush spread across her face and down her neck and he smiled, leaning forward and kissing her again softly, letting his hand settle against her ribs.  
  
He preoccupied her with the kiss and let his thumb stroke across her nipple that was already hard against the fabric of her bra.  
  
Her breath hitched and she bit down softly on his lip.  
  
His hand slid underneath her, nimble fingers easily unhooking the double clasp before returning, running calloused fingers across her stomach.  
  
“Please,” she whispered against his lips and he drug the fabric away from her body and lowered his head, closing his lips around a pink nub.  
  
She gasped and arched into him, her hands blindly grabbing a hold of his head.  
  
He licked and sucked tenderly, dragging the oversensitive flesh between his teeth before moving over to the other side.  
  
She was panting against him and when both nipples had received their due attention he looked back up at her.  
  
Her lip was crimped between her teeth and she was staring at him, heart thundering so loud in her chest he could actually hear it.  
  
He sat up, pulling his gray shirt over his head and leaned back over her, his amulet dangling between them.  
  
He smirked when he saw her try to not look at his chest.  
  
“It’s okay to look you know,” he teased.  
  
Her eyes shot to his and then she smiled embarrassed and looked away again.  
  
He grinned and captured her lips again in a tender kiss.  
  
“You can touch too,” he whispered.  
  
She stared at him, breathing so hard her nipples were barely grazing his solid chest with each heaving breath.  
  
He smirked and kissed her again, smiling against her lips when he felt her shaky fingers find their way to his stomach.  
  
He groaned low in his throat and she slowly slid them up over his pecs and onto his neck, pulling his face closer to hers.  
  
“There’s my girl,” he rumbled and she found herself smiling.  
  
He chuckled and her grin just grew.  
  
“You alright hun?”  
  
She bit her lip and nodded with a small smile.  
  
He smiled back, kissing her again before trailing his way down her neck and chest, before making his way down to her stomach.  
  
His fingers splayed out over her ribs as he nuzzled her stomach and dipped his tongue into her navel, nipping around the edge.  
  
She twitched and tried to suppress a moan, lacing her fingers in his hair.  
  
He looked back up at her as his hand rested over a denim clad hip. She held his gaze for a moment before putting her head back and closing her eyes.  
  
He swallowed hard and undid the button on her pants before pulling down the zipper with a soft tug.   
  
He hooked his fingers through the waistband of her pants, then paused and slipped them under the hem of her underwear too, waiting for her to protest.  
  
When she didn’t, just continued breathing hard, eyes closed, he tugged them over her hips and down her legs, pulling off her tennis shoes and placing them by her other discarded clothing.  
  
He toed off his own boots and crawled back over her.  
  
She felt his warmth, his presence, as he held himself over her and she allowed herself to reach for him, her small hands finding the bones of his hips before running themselves over his stomach and then latching onto his arms.  
  
He lowered himself over her, letting his whole body come in contact with her and kissed her softly, moaning when she wrapped her fingers through his hair.  
  
When they broke he nuzzled his nose against hers and smiled when she opened her eyes at him.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
She nodded. “Just nervous,” she said embarrassed.  
  
“I know hun, it’s okay.”  
  
She chuckled, a blush of embarrassment unwillingly creeping into her face.  
  
“Talk to me babe.”  
  
“I just don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”  
  
He smiled, “That’s okay, do whatever feels right.”  
  
She sighed and looked away for a moment.  
  
“It’s alright Em, just do what you want,” he paused, “I’ve got you,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing her, bringing his body a little closer to hers.  
  
She sighed against him, and brought her legs up to wrap around his waist. Almost involuntarily she rubbed against the bulge in his jeans, seeking out the contact her body obviously knew she needed.  
  
He groaned into her mouth before breaking the kiss and once again making his way down her neck.  
  
“That’s good baby.”  
  
She didn’t know how he managed to keep dropping his voice lower and deeper but it was doing wonderful things to her system.  
  
This time when his kisses progressed to her stomach he stopped and looked back up at her.  
  
She wasn’t looking at him, her head thrown back, chest heaving and staring straight up.  
  
He kissed her hip, trailing the tip of his tongue in a line before stopping when she almost jumped.  
  
She was becoming painfully aware of where he was headed and her heart was thundering in her chest.  
  
The touch of his lips to the inside of her thigh just sent lightning through her veins to complement it.  
  
He slowly lifted her leg and spread her a little more open to him, watching her carefully.  
  
He lifted her hand off of her stomach, bringing her slender fingers to his mouth and sucking the first two digits tenderly.  
  
She whined low in her throat and he moaned back, encouraging her.  
  
He laced his fingers through hers before finally dropping his head.  
  
He let his finger graze her flesh, whispering that it was okay and to relax when she whined and jumped.  
  
He slid his finger through her wetness before slipping it slowly inside her body, noting the way she opened to him.  
  
His thumb circled her clit and he felt her hand tighten around his.  
  
He stroked slow and strong before slipping out and adding a second finger.  
  
She just laid still, death grip on his hand and let him take the reins.  
  
He kissed the inside of her thigh again before slipping his fingers free, sucking them clean and groaning at her taste before hitching himself forward and licking her slowly.  
  
“Oh god.”  
  
Her knuckles went white and he moaned, lapping at her entrance before taking her clit between his lips and suckling softly.  
  
Her moans increased and he found himself grinding into the ground beneath him. His own needs now making themselves painfully known.  
  
He continued his glorious torture until she literally pulled him away, the heat and rush becoming too much for her to stand.  
  
He kissed her knuckles before letting go of her hand and once again pulling himself over her, smiling at her closed eyes and pink flushed face.  
  
He kissed her softly, and was almost surprised when both her hands shot to his cheeks and she kissed him like a starving woman.  
  
He moaned against her sudden assault and dropped his hips, pushing the bulge in his pants against her wetness.  
  
She ground against him and broke the kiss, laying her head back.  
  
“Em,” he whispered against her skin, licking and nipping at her collarbone.  
  
“Please Dean.”  
  
He rocked himself to his knees, pulling out his wallet and a small foil square from an inside pocket before discarding his jeans.  
  
She held his eyes, refusing to look down.  
  
“You can you know,” he said softly, tearing at the corner of the packet.  
  
She swallowed hard and he threw his head back with a groan when he felt her inexperienced hand tremble and wrap around his thick heat.  
  
She stumbled and froze before she began stroking it cautiously.  
  
He leaned over her, bracing himself with one hand before kissing her.  
  
“That’s good babe,” he rumbled before slipping the thin rubber on himself.  
  
She swallowed hard again and he just watched her for an okay.  
  
She finally sighed and her hand came up, immersing her fingers in his hair and pulling him into a hard kiss.   
  
Her legs wrapped around his hips and pulled him down into contact with her where she ground against him.  
  
He moaned into her mouth before reaching down and positioning himself.  
  
In one smooth stroke he was seated inside her and she broke the kiss, rubbing her forehead against his.  
  
“Em?”  
  
“I’m okay,” she breathed.  
  
He kissed her again softly and pulled out before slowly sliding back in.  
  
She was so tight and wet he was hoping he’d just be able to last for her.  
  
He slowly sped up his thrusts, encouraged by her low moans and the roll of her hips.  
  
Her fingers grasped blindly on his back and he was sure she was leaving nail marks but he didn’t care.  
  
He sucked greedily on her neck before kissing her again, slamming his way into her.  
  
The air in the cellar was cold and her pert nipples were dragging across his chest, causing a startling sensation for both of them each time he thrust into her.  
  
There was a fire starting in the pit of her stomach and she moaned, unconsciously letting her hand slip down to the swell of his ass, as if she could pull him deeper within her.  
  
He groaned back and began thrusting in earnest, slamming himself into her.  
  
Their harsh breathing and the soft slap of skin on skin seemed loud in the small enclosure and when he felt his own control start to slip he dropped his head, kissing her neck.  
  
“Come on, cum for me baby.”  
  
She threw her head back and let the smoldering within her burn through its constraints and engulf her senses like an oxygen hungry flame.  
  
She almost called his name out but he slammed his mouth down hard over hers, muffling her cry from the prying ears of anyone that might be outside as he pulled his own release from her welcoming body, shuddering as he spilled himself inside her.  
  
With a couple more jerking thrusts he slipped free and panted hard into her neck.  
  
Her shaky hand came up to cradle the back of his head as she blinked the spots away from her vision.  
  
He rolled onto his side and wrapped his thick arms around her, pulling her back against his chest, burying his nose in her hair.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered, still with shaky breath.  
  
“Sshh…you’re welcome baby,” he rumbled back.  
  
After they both came down from their highs he leaned over, kissing her softly on the cheek.  
  
She smiled and rolled onto her back looking up at him before he kissed her softly.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
She smiled and nodded before he pulled her into him and cuddled with her in silence.  
  
When he saw the light falling through the cracks of the door start to wane he sat up, retrieving their forgotten clothing.  
  
“You better get dressed babe, no telling when they’ll show up.”  
  
She nodded and pulled on her own clothes as he did the same.  
  
He picked up his forgotten jacket, the jacket that had started this whole mess and slapped the dust off of it before handing it to her, smiling when she slipped it on, the sleeves hanging well past her hands and the whole thing swallowing her small frame.  
  
He just chuckled, sitting down against the wall and pulling her down to sit between his legs where they continued to wait.

* * *

 

Emily had been right. When her aunt and uncle, the sheriff and a few other townspeople had finally come to take them to the orchard all the men had been armed with rifles, and despite Dean’s obvious skill, even he wouldn’t try his hand at an escape against those odds.

* * *

 

“How many people have you killed Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?” Dean spit out, struggling just the slightest bit as his hands were tied above his head.  
  
“We don’t kill them,” he hissed.  
  
“No, but you sure cover up after. I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?”  
  
The sheriff ignored him, listening to Emily plead to her family behind him.  
  
“Uncle Harley, please,” she begged through her tears.  
  
“I’m so sorry Em, I wish it wasn’t you.”  
  
Emily winced.   
  
She had been called Em her whole life, but hearing it come from the man that was currently tying her to a tree somehow made it feel so wrong after the way it had come so tenderly from Dean’s lips.  
  
“Try to understand, it’s our responsibility and there’s just no other choice. There’s nobody else but you,” her aunt said sickly sweet, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
“I’m your family,” she whispered in a last ditch effort to play on their emotions.  
  
“Sweetheart, that’s what sacrifice means,” she crooned, crouching down and tucking a strand of hair behind Emily’s ear. She tried to turn away from the touch.   
  
“Giving up something you love, for the greater good. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many, outweighs the good of the one,” she repeated like a mantra, a magical phrase that somehow justified everything.  
  
Dean clenched his jaw and almost rolled his eyes.  
  
“I hope your apple pie’s frickin’ worth it!” he yelled to their retreating backs as they left.  
  
Emily shifted her hands, and looked over at him. “So what’s the plan?”  
  
“I’m working on it,” he said, shifting his own arms, testing the strength of his bonds.

* * *

 

When dusk had set in and the only thing Dean had to show for his escape attempts were a couple of bleeding, badly rope-burned wrists, he laid his head back against the uneven tree branches and looked over at Emily, apologies in his eyes.  
  
She smiled sadly at him.  
  
“It’s okay Dean,” she whispered.   
  
He could see it in her face the added,  _I know you tried_. That just pissed him off. He was a Winchester for god’s sake, they never gave up.  
  
He sighed, looking at her, so young, so innocent and so goddamn loving despite everything she had just been subjected to by her own family and he bit his lip and renewed his struggles.

* * *

 

“You don’t have a plan do you?” she said half in jest.  
  
“I’m working on it,” he paused, “Can you see?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Is he moving yet?”  
  
She craned her neck around, peering between the branches and through the dark. “I can’t see.” And then she caught a shadow move past the corner of her eye and she twisted her neck to its limit trying to see. Whatever it was, was huge and panic shot through her. “Oh my god, oh my god!”  
  
Dean twisted and pulled, willing to break a goddamned hand or anything just to get free when he heard a familiar voice.  
  
“Dean?!”  
  
His head spun around to see Sam staring at him in shock.  
  
He sighed and chuckled, “Oh, ha, I take everything back I said, I’m so happy to see you, come on,” he said breathless as Sam rushed over and immediately began working on the ropes.  
  
“How’d you get here?” he asked, feeling the ropes loosen.  
  
“I uh, stole a car,” Sam said, knowing full well Dean would never let him live it down.  
  
Dean laughed, “That’s my boy!”  
  
Emily smirked at the banter, still in shock at their sudden savior.  
  
“Keep an eye on that scarecrow, it can come alive any minute,” Dean said, gingerly rubbing his raw wrists and letting the blood rush back into his hands.  
  
“What scarecrow?” Sam said quietly, staring at the empty wooden cross standing forebodingly in the middle of the orchard.  
  
Dean shot to his feet and spun around Sam panic slicing thorough him.  
  
“Shit,” he hissed, rushing over to Emily and hitting his knees, fumbling with the ropes. His fingers were still numb and tingling and he was getting nowhere. “Damnit! Sam! You got a knife?!”  
  
Sam immediately produced a small switch blade and blindly handed it to Dean, eyes frantically scanning for the absent god.  
  
Dean’s eyes met Emily’s in reassurance as he made quick work of the rope and pulled her to her feet beside him, making sure she was okay before they began running for the road.

* * *

 

“Alright, now, this sacred tree you’re talking about…” Sam said breathless jogging behind Dean and Emily.  
  
“It’s the source of its power,” Dean answered.  
  
“So let’s find it and burn it.”  
  
“Naw, in the morning, let’s just shag ass before leatherface catches up,” Dean said, running ahead.  
  
The unmistakable sound of a weapon cocking stopped Dean in his tracks, flashlights clicking on and shining in their faces.  
  
“This way,” he grabbed a hold of Emily to only spin and find more rifles and flashlights pointed at them everywhere they turned.  
  
“Please, let us go,” Emily begged.  
  
“It’ll be over quickly, I promise,” he uncle tried to sooth, despite the rifle aimed at her. “Please Emily, you have to let him take you, you have to…”  
  
Whatever he was about to say was brutally cut short when the end of the Vanir’s scythe appeared from his chest.  
  
Emily screamed in horror, turning and burying her face into Dean’s chest who wrapped his arms around her protectively.  
  
Aunt Stacy screamed as Harley wheezed his last breath before collapsing in a heap. The Vanir’s patchwork skin arm wrapped around Stacy’s throat and imbedded the scythe in Harley’s leg, dragging them into the darkness.  
  
The other townspeople turned and ran like cowards, knowing the god was angry and not wanting to be targets of its rage.  
  
Dean watched in horror until he heard Stacy’s screams silenced and grabbed a hold of Emily’s arm.   
  
“Come on, let’s go!”  
  
His arm wrapped around her waist, half urging her, half pushing her towards the entrance of the orchard, Sam right behind them.  
  
When they reached the road they stopped and spun, staring into the darkness.  
  
Dean unconsciously ran his hand up and down Emily’s back.

* * *

 

Sam pulled the small gas can out of the trunk and shut it before walking over to where Dean and Emily were waiting by the entrance to the orchard.  
  
Without a word the trio began making their way through the trees searching for anything that might mark the sacred one among them.  
  
Deep in the property they spotted a tree that was almost twice the size of any others and they glanced at each other as they drew closer.  
  
Pagan symbols circled the tree, carved deep into its trunk.  
  
Sam passed Dean and Emily and unscrewed the cap of the gas tank, emptying its contents on the trunk and base.  
  
Dean retrieved a fallen limb off the ground and flicked his Zippo repeatedly until the end of the branch caught on fire.  
  
Emily stared into the flickering flames before holding out her hand.  
  
“Let me.”  
  
“You know the whole town’s gonna die,” Dean said quietly, not sure he wanted her to take that upon her shoulders, absentmindedly holding the branch just out of her reach.  
  
“Good,” she said, holding his eyes and taking the branch from him.  
  
She stepped forward, breathing deep and tossed he burning branch unto the gas soaked tree.  
  
Sam and Dean shared a look while watching it burn.

* * *

 

Emily came back from the purchase window, bus ticket in hand and walked over to where Dean was waiting.  
  
“Where’s Sam?”  
  
“Bathroom,” he said, tossing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door behind him.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“So, where ya headed?”  
  
“Boston. I have a cousin up there. Figured I’d stay with her until I get on my feet.”  
  
Dean nodded and then smiled when Emily sighed and walked into his arms, resting her head on his chest.  
  
He held her tight, kissing the top of her head, leaning back against the wall.  
  
She smiled and pulled back, looking into his eyes before he captured her lips in his, kissing her strong and slow.  
  
He sighed when they broke, leaving his forehead resting against hers.  
  
“Thank you Dean,” she whispered, “For everything.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” he rumbled.  
  
“You know,” she said with a smile, “If you’re ever in Boston…”  
  
He grinned too and nodded, “I’ll look you up babe.”  
  
“Good,” she said, pulling back slightly, her hands resting on his stomach.  
  
He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear.  
  
She smiled and he leaned in and kissed her again.  
  
“I’ll never forget you,” she whispered against his lips.  
  
He sighed, “Me either.”  
  
He kissed her again before pulling back when he heard the toilet flush.  
  
She smiled.

* * *

 

She climbed up the steps into the bus, one measly bag in hand and paused looking out the windshield. She smiled at Sam for a moment before turning and catching Dean’s eyes.  
  
She smiled wider, her breath catching when she saw him swallow hard before lifting his hand and giving her a small wave.  
  
She sighed and turned, making her way to the back of the bus.  
  
“You think she’ll be okay?” Sam asked, as the air brakes on the large vehicle hissed and the driver backed it out of the terminal.  
  
“I hope so,” Dean said, watching it turn towards the road, eyes scanning the windows.  
  
“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?”  
  
“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough,” Dean said solemnly, waiting until he could no longer see the bus as it traveled north before finally turning and heading to the Impala, Sam in tow.


End file.
